Nineteen
by xoxonessie
Summary: He doesn't have to explain what he's talking about: she knows exactly what's on his mind. If she's being honest with herself, it's also been on hers quite often lately… Paris. One of the many things they somehow seem to have silently agreed on never discussing, pretending it had never happened and never meant anything. POST-FINALE TAG.


So….. over a year later, you have Stephanie to thank for my return to writing fanfiction… For better or for worse…. XD

Anyway, thank you for the idea, for the motivation and for your precious help Steph! ;)

So, this is a hiatus tag, obvioulsy happening after the season 10 finale and set during the upcoming summer. So, minor spoilers for this episode.

_Disclaimer :_ Even the idea for this wasn't mine so...

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Snooping around Tony's apartment has been one of Ziva's new favorite activities to busy her jobless summer with. Over the past few weeks, she has ended up learning that he likes to organize his DVDs alphabetically and not by genre, that he owns more books than he would ever admit to anyone, especially old versions of literary classics he never even mentioned having read and that he's been unable to get rid of some really worn out pieces of clothing from his college days which he keeps hidden from prying eyes in the depths of his closet.

Ziva's in the process of inspecting another DVD shelf when something different catches her attention. Right on the far end of the shelf, she notices a little wooden box she has never seen before and checking over her shoulder that her partner is still focused on preparing dinner for their movie night in the kitchen, she quietly opens it and empties it of its content.

That's when she finds it, safely trapped between pictures of various periods of her partner's life. The picture of her Tony took when they were in Paris, many years before. _"I found my favorite picture"_ she remembers him saying and she really can't help smiling fondly at the memory. Yet, she is intrigued about why he keeps a picture of her in his apartment and after thinking it over for about 10 seconds, decides that if Tony ever found a picture of himself in her apartment, she would never hear the end of it.

So she takes the picture out of the pack and put the others back in the box before making her way to the kitchen.

"Tony?" she calls with a hint of amusement in her voice and holds up the picture in front of herself.

She can pinpoint the exact moment he recognizes the object of her curiosity because his eyes grow a little wider and his mouth opens slightly in surprise for a second before he composes himself, puts on an innocent smile and takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving the picture in her hand, before taking it from her with the soft touch that is usually reserved to precious, inestimable goods.

She expects him to tell her something along the lines of "snooping is not very attractive" and she's already thinking of a good comeback but his actual reaction takes her completely by surprise.

"It really is a lovely picture." he comments matter-of-factly, and although she knew he probably meant to sound amused and maybe a little teasing, she can hear the seriousness and the honesty in his voice.

Suddenly, she can feel something shift in the until-then very light mood of the room. She looks at him, who is still very much focused on the piece of glossy paper in his hand, and waits for him to say something else, to make a joke about how it could have been improved by a famous landmark in the background or if he had been in it, but the joke never comes and she starts to worry that maybe she overstepped her snooping around rights and the now very pensive look on his face makes her start regretting having called him out on the picture in the first place. She's about to say something when he speaks again, whispers almost, and his green eyes meet hers for the first time since he's left the kitchen area.

"We never talked about it you know."

He doesn't have to explain what he's talking about: she knows exactly what's on his mind. If she's being honest with herself, it's also been on hers quite often lately… _Paris_. One of the many things they somehow seem to have silently agreed on never discussing, pretending it had never happened and never meant anything. If there's something they have gotten really good at over the 8 years of their partnership, it's their ability to push certain things aside and move on without ever bringing it up again. She starts thinking that maybe it's not as comforting and healthy as they thought.

But she's got this uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and her old habits get the best of her intentions.

She shifts a little on her feet and tries to swallow the discomfort away. She's doing a poor job at maintaining her composure and she knows it. She can feel it in the way she doesn't seem to be able to look at him in the eye anymore and she can hear it in the way her voice fails her a little when she forces the words out.

"Well, there is really not much to talk about. We shared a bed, that is all." She shrugs and sends him a casual smile for emphasis.

She knows he doesn't buy it when he sighs a humorless chuckle and shakes his head in disbelief.

"Nothing to talk about. Right."

And maybe it's the hint of bitterness and disappointment in his voice or the influence of the "post-elevator them" feelings lingering between them but she feels guilty all of a sudden and she mentally scolds herself for being such a coward.

"Tony… I – I just don't know what to say about it. I – we never -"

"We never talked about it before, I know. But I thought that maybe…. Nevermind. Maybe it's better like that."

He lays the picture on the shelf next to him and starts to turn away from her. The uneasy feeling in her stomach is making her sick now, and she finds herself not willing to let go. She puts a hand on his forearm, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

"Why now?" she asks softly, begging him with her eyes not to give up. She sounds desperate now and she knows it. But she can't mess this up just because she's scared of what could come out of it.

Tony looks at her as if he's trying to decide whether this is a good idea after all and she holds his gaze and slips her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

"Because I think it's time we talked about it." He turns his hand in hers so that he can lace their fingers together and squeezes her hand back, telling her with that that they are having that conversation no matter what, and they're having it now, and she doesn't have to be afraid. He doesn't relax his hold on her hand until Ziva nods, almost imperceptibly, and he knows she's not going to bail.

"That night, when you woke up from that nightmare and I held you in my arms until you calmed down and fell asleep again, I felt like something had changed you know. After everything that had happened, I felt like you were finally trusting me again. Completely, unconditionally. And I never asked anything about your nightmares, about how often you had them or how bad they were because I didn't want you to feel like I was intruding again and I feared that you would slip away again if I did. But if anyone asked me when I knew that our relationship wasn't completely ruined, when I knew that we could fix it and go back to being….. _us_… then _that_ was it. It was that night in Paris. And I can't pretend that it didn't mean anything anymore, especially considering where we are now, you know? Because that's when I knew that I had really got you back. For good."

Ziva can't move, she can barely hold herself together, let alone say anything. She doesn't remember the nightmare she had that night, she doesn't even remember the exact moment he put his arms around her and held her tighter than she'd ever been held before. But she does remember feeling safe and warm in his arms and how, for the first time in months, she had slept soundly through the rest of the night. She just never thought it had meant so much to him. So she can't help but ask.

"But why did you never say anything? Even the following morning, you just rambled on and on about Paris and sightseeing, you joked about how well you had slept and you acted like nothing had happened so I thought you just did not want to talk about it because it was not important or because you did not want to know. I mean, I was not in a good place, I could not blame you for not wanting to share the experience, especially after everything that happened…"

Tony shakes his head and lets out a small laugh and she is confused because she doesn't see what is so funny about it. But he suddenly reaches for her other hand with his free one and when she looks back at him, she finds him smiling down at her in the most affectionate way, and the intensity of his stare completed with the genuine tenderness of his smile completely throws her off.

"Ziva" he sighs, "I would have given anything to have you 'share the experience' with me. But I didn't want you to feel like you had to. I never brought it up because I thought this was not something you wanted to elaborate on, that maybe you would be embarrassed about it for some reason and I didn't want to push it. I thought when you were ready, you would tell me. That's the only reason."

It's like a huge weight has just been lifted off her shoulders and she can't help but laugh a little and roll her eyes at how complicated they seem to have always made things for themselves when it really didn't have to be, and when Tony starts chuckling too, she knows he's thinking the same thing.

"We really have to work on that communication thing." He says through his laughter. "It should be like, our top priority on the list of things we need to figure out."

"I agree."

There's a moment of silence and she can feel the mood shift again. The uneasy feeling in her stomach is gone and has been replaced by some sort of warmth that is much more comfortable and reassuring. And staring into his eyes, she can see just how much he meant everything he said and she feels so cherished, so special, so loved all of a sudden, that she really doesn't think about it when she stands on her toes and places a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" he asks with an almost shy smile.

She knows she could just give him all of her reasons, maybe she should even. Maybe she should explain that it was for all the fights and the misunderstandings, for all the times he was there for her when nobody else was, or for every time he managed to make her smile when she felt like her whole world was falling apart. And yet, for the first time, she realizes that she doesn't want it to be so complicated.

"For everything." She simply answers, and judging by the way Tony smiles at her right then, she knows that it really doesn't have to be.


End file.
